


What the Hand Dare Sieze the Fire?

by Lothiriel84



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Drabble Collection, Drama, F/M, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 20:19:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In what distant deeps or skies / Burnt the fire of thine eyes? (William Blake)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sirenofodysseus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirenofodysseus/gifts).



> Written as a part of the Great Stocking Swap 2013 on Paint It Red.

Whatever happens, she knows she can’t tell them.

_Cold metal biting into her wrists as she struggled to get free._

They wouldn’t understand anyway.

_His breath hot on her neck, his hands busy elsewhere._

It feels like he’s sworn her to secrecy, not a word will ever go past her lips.

_Her voice a cracked whisper when she finally begged him to take her. (Over and over.)_

They’ve no idea how she belongs to him, body and soul.

_Pain and pleasure mingling as he spent himself inside of her._

She needs him now.

_(Handcuffed to that bed all over again.)_


	2. Chapter 2

The first time she came to him, it was out of pity.

_Even the blackest soul deserves a chance at redemption._

She said she wanted to help him.

_She never meant to end up in his bed._

The second time she came to prove him wrong.

_She wasn’t in love with him – was she?_

He grinned at her, and she was lost.

_Crying out his name again and again._

The third time she came to stay.

_Curled up to his side like a lioness with her mate._

She knew she’d sold her soul to the devil.

_She just didn’t care._


	3. Chapter 3

He hates him more than he hates himself.

_He just doesn’t want his hands to stop roaming all over his body._

“I’m going to kill you, you know,” he says stubbornly.

_And yet his breath is coming in ragged pants – he’s so close now._

“I know. Just not yet, okay?”

_A stifled moan escapes from his throat, and he finally lets himself go._

Later on warm lips press against his shoulder as the other seeks his own completion.

_Low groans echoing in his ear._

“I love you,” the other man says drowsily.

_They soon fall asleep in each other’s arms._


End file.
